


Breakfast for Three

by Etnoe



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Daddy Kink, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, Under-negotiated Kink, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 06:53:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5699080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Etnoe/pseuds/Etnoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On shore leave, an odd little practice develops between Jim, Bones, and Pike. (Oddly sexy.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breakfast for Three

**Author's Note:**

  * For [storiesfortravellers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesfortravellers/gifts).



* * *

  
They were laughing. With Pike that wasn't notable, but with Bones it required a lot of work. Was he even drunk? Jim wondered, for a second irritated that Pike might find it easier to get Bones laughing than Jim did, but scoffed at his own prickly dumbass reaction. Anyway, they wouldn't have forgotten about the adjoining door between their suites if they weren't pretty well-oiled. Then there was the simple fact that it was the first night of shore leave - Bones's thoughts went in predictable directions once he could throw off the yoke and step off _Enterprise_ , and getting respectably hammered was usually an early stop along the way. Seemed like Pike had joined him.

And Jim still wouldn't get to make fun of them in the morning! Sex noise was one thing, but with them _laughing_ next door...

He looked up to stare at the variation in the dimness that marked the open door to the adjoining hotel room, kind of wanting to but trying not to picture them - Bones wouldn't appreciate it - and then dropped his head heavily. It was probably the way the bedding felt that had the old folks amused. The fabric kept building up a low static charge with sharp or consistent movements, just high enough that humanoids felt a zing and tickling.

There was a sound loud enough to identify as belonging to Pike and being victorious. Then that next growl was McCoy, never one to give in easily. Someone laughed again, damn it. Jim was forced to send a grin at the open door in response. They liked each other so damn much.

He considered, once again, leaving the room or shutting the door - those two probably wouldn't notice either action with how much fun they were having, and it would save egos all round. Once again, he didn't move.

Bones was going to be pissed in the morning. A hungover act might save Jim from being lectured half to death about why he'd invited himself over for a voyeurism party, but it was a big gamble that it would fool Pike. Now there was a man who'd fished scores of bona fide hungover students out of Academy fountains for years and years. He was likely to have a very serious, stern look in response to any act Jim tried to put on.

A lazy grin stole over Jim's face. For a moment he indulged, thinking up the way they'd look at him, the kind of tone Pike's voice would take; his hand travelled down into the hotel sleep uniform and squeezed his rising dick. A moment was the limit, though. Then he rolled onto his side - virtuously not even pressing against the mattress or letting the zingy fabric drape against his crotch - and tried to not to think of or with his dick.

He had to stop thinking of them as old. Pike kind of was, but the real reason Jim kept thinking like that was Bones, since he made it his life's work to be 100 years older than the oldest person in hearing distance - that meant Jim only had half an excuse. The problem was that it made Jim feel like he could act young, which was fine up until he realised it was running up against the way he was supposed to act with fellow officers, one of who was his _captain_. Though he was career-minded enough that it didn't crop up on-shift, when it was downtime ... dammit, he wasn't meant to still find it so easy to play the brat.

What really didn't help was that Bones and Pike also seemed to find it an easy way for the three of them to play off each other.

*

The next morning at breakfast, shared between the three of them on the balcony that ran across both rooms, Bones broke first. "Well?" he demanded, and immediately Jim put up his hands in surrender. They exchanged glances towards the bed within line of sight from where they sat - the one that had been shared by Bones and Pike - just to confirm that they were on the same page, and then Jim zipped his lips with true sincerity. He was not going to say a word. No teasing (like a guy would expect from his brat friend) ... no apologising for not closing the door, either, if they didn't ask for it or seem like they'd require it from him.

Bones's eyebrows shot up. Jim pointed at the salt so that he'd pass it. There! Normal as could be, now, hopefully.

"A man could get jealous," Pike said. "Did you two do a course in voiceless communication? Got just enough psi-sensitivity training to develop a link?"

"Like he'd ever," Jim said at the same time as Bones snorted derisively.

"My head makes enough noise in its own. Don't even make me imagine adding _Jim_ to it, even if the science for that kind of thing were more sound," he confirmed.

"Then you really shouldn't be putting up with Kirk at all, from the sound of it," Pike said, and aimed a sharp, gut-warming grin at him. 

"Captain," Jim protested, as if against being teased, but in fact feeling a harder hit from that smile.

Bones harrumphed, which was a good little distraction and made sure that Jim didn't end up looking helplessly at Pike for more than a second too long. "He grows on you." 

It was said with enough sincerity that Jim quit conversing for most of the meal. Sometimes it was kind of embarrassing, how much he liked Bones. And Pike, particularly, right now, the way he teased and pushed - it was like the sharper he got, the more lenience Bones was willing to give. After last night's stint of auditory voyeurism, it was the kind of situation that could really back his imagination into a corner that meant only one scenario would be coming out...

Should've ordered a champagne breakfast. He could use a drink.

*

The door stayed open again that night.

Bones and Pike went at it again that night.

This time Jim had come back to the hotel late. He entered his room and noticed the lights were off in the other suite, so he stayed quiet and put the light on dimly in case they were in, and asleep. So that meant he could hear them clearly (again) and froze at the first deep gasp, and it meant they didn't catch on to the fact that he'd returned.

He undressed for bed to the sounds they made, jacket, shirt, and pants coming off to the sound of the bed creaking and quiet pleased noises. He stared at the gap between the door and its frame - it wasn't wide enough to see more than segments of wall and carpet from any angle he took - and could only look away when he had to get under the sheets that touched his skin with its static prickle.

*

Jim ordered the champagne breakfast and hardly said a word throughout the meal. The other two were more than happy to chat and leave him in the silence of his own making. And were probably playing footsie under the table to rub it all in, he bet.

*

The third night was not a coincidence.

Come on. Come _on_!

Jim nearly bit his pillow in frustration, and frankly, if he was going to reach that point in bed he preferred to have company to help him along.

Two more nights of shore leave allotted, he thought. Were things going to reach a peak? What kind of strategy was at use here? Should he be more annoyed at Pike or Bones?

It wasn't like they didn't both know him; too well, even. This was targeted. They knew he wasn't offended, and had probably picked something up about the active appeal their bouts in the sack had for him, and why he was tense enough to get quiet at breakfast. Bones had had years to keep an eye on him and pick up things about him that even Jim might not be aware of (just like Jim had done with him); Pike had made Jim his business for slightly longer, and after a year of serving on the same ship they had got to know each other as people too.

He was on _Enterprise_ as the first officer instead of captain because he'd screwed up. Because of immaturity, not to put too fine a point on it. Now he increasingly wanted to play the kind of games with his ... friends/comrades/his _favourite fucking people_ , all right where he indulged in something a lot like immaturity and they took care of him. Just the idea of it should have grated on him so badly, and instead it kept him listening to the murmurs next door until he was too wound up to sleep.

Breakfast sure was going to be awkward again, Jim decided, but in a new way. He had to think some things through first.

*

The three of them had decided to eat in the hotel's communal dining room, so that there would be an opportunity for the crew to ease back into getting used to looking their captain in the eye. Bones and Pike sat at one end of a long table in the mess, ready for him to approach ... and now that the moment had come, the mental prep had done nothing to stop him from having to force himself into the awkwardness.

He joined the line at the buffet and got toast and preserves, reviewing excuses to explain the meagre breakfast and his need to run off ASAP. Once he got to Bones and Pike's table, they bought it without problem that he was taking another brief overview of the hotel's security system and see if there was anything in the data of the last few days he might have to take note of for the crew's continued safety. A suitable, if marginally paranoid, occupation for the chief tactical officer. And so, now to the next step...

"I thought I ought to let you two know I'm bunking with Sulu," Jim said, focusing strictly on unscrewing the cap of the marmalade.

The tension came immediately. It was like a string tied between them, making any movement from one pull at the other two so that they all watched each other carefully and moved uneasily.

"There are these mini-shuttle races we want to join in. He has an inside contact and wants us both to leave early, so it's more convenient to stick with him. Might do it again tomorrow, we'll see how it goes. Place your bets on who's going to be the winner, but don't let me know - gambling's against regs, officers." He winked and slapped the slices of toast on top of each other.

He left behind two men wondering and rethinking as they stared after him.

"Why am I making Jim Kirk part of my sex life? Could have just let it go, instead of making the awkwardness purposeful," Leonard said. "And why does he pick now to feel the effects of all the concussions he's done up and lose capacity for logical thought? We've 'accidentally' left the door open three times in a row!"

The questions were slightly more active than idle. Leonard wasn't necessarily after another serious discussion, but acknowledgement was necessary. And if he didn't get any, there would be blood.

"It's a captain thing," Christopher tried, absurdity as distraction. "You try and keep your relationships low-key, until someone's too irresistible to withstand and you have to take your chance. Guess we're not there yet for him."

A mouthful of coffee almost landed in Leonard's lungs as he rushed to swallow and shout. "You're as bad as Jim is! He is _not a captain_ , and trots the pick-up lines of a pig at the slightest excuse!" He fixed Christopher with a narrow look. "You're adorable. Love that kid to bits, huh. You are just dying to see him get a captain's seat again."

Christopher applied himself to his eggs and toast, and only let a grin show when Leonard gave him a consoling pat on the back. He didn't bother to point out that Leonard was carefully avoiding applying the 'irresistible' comment to himself. It seemed like he did better stewing on that kind of comment, even when said in jest, than simply accepting flattery.

"So long as you keep not letting Jim get away with anything, your secret's safe with me."

Christopher made a soft sound that had Leonard looking over to him. "Now there's an idea," he said. "It probably would work to not let him get away with this..."

"Chris," Leonard said in unspecified protest, chewing guiltily at his gruel and sap (local food that, for once, he loved, even though it looked like a sidewalk).

"We push it a little more. Get him to the point of saying yes or no - that's all."

Leonard grumbled indistinctly, but if he really wanted to protest, nothing could stop the man. He tended to be low on hope; the fact that he still wanted to try and get Jim into bed - shift their relationship closer towards the romantic for the first time - said a lot. It meant that there was probably going to be the full mandatory counselling and paperwork regarding long-term cross-rank relationships in all three of their futures ... hopefully. They could do it, Christopher felt. He didn't quite have certainty, but he did have that feeling of readiness that he trusted to guide him. Challenges were there to be thrived on.

*

As Jim stepped back into the hotel the night, his key - attached to the loop of his belt - flashed to let him know that he had an incoming message from the hotel switchboard. He detached it to let the full message display on the key card's screen interface.

"Huh," he said, feeling all the good of time spent far away from those adjoining suites coming undone.

"Show-off," said Sulu. 

"You _drove up a cliff_ not one hour ago," Jim reminded him. "Those shuttles don't even have the nav systems to handle that!"

"Makes me qualified to identify a show-off when I can see one. I can't believe you kept that thing on the local language setting instead of switching to Standard or something. How many bits of different languages are you hoping to annoy Uhura with, anyway?"

There were a number of options: he could be smug about his language acquisition skills, keep teasing Sulu and also discussing their awesome performance at the races, he could suggest they scare up Uhura so he could tease her, too - still one of his favourite pastimes - or at least discuss linguistic tips and tricks like good officers who always wanted to learn and grow.

"Look, I gotta go," he said. "Captain asked me to swing by his room."

They said goodbye and parted ways at the elevator. Last night here, Jim thought. Last night to do something a little out of the ordinary before getting back to normal. Last night for a no-strings-attached ... or to try out the start of something.

He held his key up to the door of the adjoined suites and the message requesting his presence reflected briefly onto the surface, and then the door slid open. "Did you want to talk, captain?"

"Jim. Come in here. I'm glad that you accepted that request." Pike was dressed so casually that it would only work for gym or, as in this case, the bedroom - the clothes soft and worn, and clinging slightly. It was in contrast with the way he stood: ready for business.

"See, I tried to get away. That was, you are undoubtedly aware, the point."

"I'm not keeping you here."

Jim scoffed. "No. No, I guess not. Just my imagination, running away with me."

"I've been thinking. It's been brought to my attention that you've been getting away with a good bit. The way you brought up going out with Sulu, slipping away from us so quick ... You were taking something of a chance, there, weren't you, son?"

Jim ran a hand through his hair, an internal shiver running through him. He felt, for no good reason, about half the size he was, standing there in his dirty racing clothes. "I'm getting the feeling I'm kinda obvious, in some ways," he said with a quick grin, and flushed. "Yeah, yeah, that's what I was doing. Sir."

Meanwhile, Bones was lying on the bed, eyeing them critically. He was remarkably silent as Pike continued talking in a kind of patter. It sounded like something rehearsed until it was very, very nearly natural. But the script wasn't off-putting: it served as a way to channel what lay behind it. That was what Jim focused on as he stood before them, helmet from the races still in hand.

"Now, nobody pointed this out to you, so it wouldn't be fair to punish you. Right, kid?"

Was there something in the air, with him lowering his voice, putting forth that stern presence? Hell yeah. Was Jim playing along?

He shrugged, looking into his helmet like it held answers.

"But there will have to be a certain measure of discipline involved in the future so that that you don't make inappropriate comments about bets like you did."

It was all teetering on the verge of too realistic - perfect for his boner or at high risk of killing it.

"Kid," said Bones. "Come here. But get outta that gear first."

It took Bones a while to warm up even while seating Jim between his thighs and touching him; to start whispering about taking care of him, such good care, and he'd do the same in turn like a good young man who repaid his favours. Won'tcha, son? Yeah, that's the way.

That took the sting out of the way Pike rode his face - well, the sting that wasn't _fun_.

"And we're having breakfast together tomorrow, too," Bones said. "Tradition by now, kid. No need to get shy about it."

Jim rolled the salt-bitter taste in his mouth around. "Bit late to be shy. I don't think it'll be a problem."

"Oh, did your voice break, son?" Pike said, brushing lightly over his Adam's apple. Jim's voice was hoarse after the workout his throat had just got.

"Feel free to encourage it to do it again, if you want," Jim said offhandedly, and was surprised by the way Pike lit up.

"Uh huh," said Bones. "You think about what you want, too. And then we talk, all about it."

It was the laughter, Jim remembered, that had really struck him that first time. They loved what they had together. And they still dragged him in too.

It wouldn't take a lot of thinking on, but he didn't tell Bones that - he'd assume Jim wasn't taking it seriously. 

"I'll let you know," Jim told them. "But, in the meantime, I'd like - for _once_ on this shore leave - to get some sleep...?"

They let him rest between them, safe and wanted.


End file.
